Give The Devil His Due (14 page)

       ‘How long's it going to be Kozen?’

       ‘Don't be so impatient Simms. It'll be ready when it's ready.’ Phil was clearly starving.

       I tried to distract him. ‘Just drink your wine Phil. Savour the moment.’

       Peach had an announcement to make. ‘Gentlemen, there's a reason I've invited you all here this weekend.’

       Phil interrupted. ‘We're not going to wake up tomorrow with sore arses and our breath stinking of chloroform are we?’ Neil started sniggering, I smiled.

       ‘No.’ Peach was looking mildly irritated.

       ‘Looks like the trip's been a waste of time for you then Will.’ Neil said.

       I could see Peach was starting to get annoyed. I tried to cool him down. ‘Shut up everyone. Give him a chance. Carry on Peach, we're listening.’

       ‘OK then. When we had the reunion a few weeks ago everyone was in agreement that our lives hadn't perhaps gone as we would have hoped. Am I right?’ We sort of nodded and muttered affirmation.

       ‘Allow me to enlighten you with something that could change all that. Imagine yourselves in eighteenth century London. Let me tell you a story about a man called Steadman, John Steadman ...’

***

For the next half-hour or so, we listened to Peach tell us the story of John Steadman's murder and how he believed that three innocent men had gone to the gallows for it. He believed the real murderer was a very wealthy man called Edward De Villiers. ‘The night that John Steadman went missing, and in all likelihood was killed, there had been a card game between him and De Villiers. I believe De Villiers lost everything he owned in that game and murdered Steadman in order to get it back.’

       Phil interjected. ‘You say the three that hanged were innocent? There must have been
some
compelling evidence against them.’

       ‘Evidence – yes, compelling – not too sure about that. Two of the men sold items of Steadman's to a jeweller, who, by virtue of the fact he took receipt of the goods, became the third man accused of the murder. When the Runners ...’

       Neil interrupted. ‘Runners?’

       ‘Yes, when the Bow Street Runners detained the two men that found the body, they had in their possession Steadman's watch and wallet. One of them was even wearing a shirt which had his monogram on.’

       ‘That sounds pretty conclusive from where I'm sitting,’ I said.

       Neil turned to me. ‘Is that the opinion of a cab driver or trolley thief?’

       ‘Point made.’ Neil was right.

       Peach continued. ‘The two thieves maintained they found the corpse on the bank of the Thames, not far from the Strand. The gaming house which was the venue for the meeting between Steadman and De Villiers was less than half a mile away.

       ‘Steadman wasn't found there, but further down the river at Shadwell, which is where all three men hailed from. Also, because the watch had no water inside its casing, nobody believed the two thieves. They insisted they'd found the body before the tide had got to it. That's when they rifled it for loot. The jeweller also protested his innocence but he suffered the same fate as the thieves.’

       ‘What makes you so sure it was De Villiers then?’ Phil asked.

       ‘Two things. First, a young girl who was working in the room where the card game took place made a statement to the Justice. She said she heard De Villiers put his trading company up as the stake in the final hand of the game, and that De Villiers had a promissory note drawn up.’

       Neil interrupted again. ‘What's a promissory note?’

       Phil answered the question. ‘It's an IOU. Stop interrupting Neil. Carry on please Peach.’

       I could tell Simms was getting into this; in fact, all of us were.

       ‘... which was witnessed by the club owner and James Moncourt.’

       ‘So why didn't they believe her statement?’ asked Phil.

       ‘You have to bear in mind that courts then were very different to the courts of today. A man with De Villiers’ wealth could produce plenty of affidavit men.’

       I needed clarification. ‘Affidavit men?’

       ‘Yes, basically witnesses that would be paid to provide an alibi. They would stand outside courthouses with straw in their shoes to signal that they could be procured.’

       This seemed a bit too fanciful for me. ‘Surely these affidavit men would be known to the court, and the girl's honesty would stand out a mile.’

       ‘No. Quite often they wouldn't. And as for the girl, she didn't just serve drinks at the room, she was also a prostitute. So her credibility was pretty much non-existent when compared to someone of De Villiers’ stature.’

       ‘What about the club owner and this Moncourt?’

       ‘The club owner denied any knowledge of the note. I'm guessing he was either paid off or too frightened. De Villiers had power and privilege. Don't forget a man had been killed, so what's to stop the owner ending up the same way if he didn't keep his mouth shut. As for Moncourt, he was De Villiers’ long time associate.’

       Neil recollected. ‘Two things Peach. You said there were
two
things that made you think De Villiers lost everything and killed this man.’

       ‘Yes. The second, and this is what makes me sure that De Villiers killed Steadman, is that a couple of days after the three men were executed for the murder, ‘De Villiers-Mercantile’ became ‘De Villiers-Moncourt’.’ He paused. ‘… with James Moncourt becoming an equal partner in the company.’

       ‘That doesn't prove anything,’ I said.

       ‘Maybe if it happened at any other time. But all things considered, especially the girl’s insistence that there was a note, leads me to draw one conclusion.’

       Phil suddenly pointed at Peach. ‘Blackmail.’

       ‘Bingo! Thank you Philip, I'm glad someone's been paying attention.’

       I thought for a moment. ‘You said the two were associates. If they were very close friends, who's to say De Villiers didn't just give him half the company for his friendship and support when the investigation and trial was going on?’

       ‘I don't think so. You must remember these were not nice people we're talking about here. De Villiers was a greedy, ruthless businessman. OK, they were educated together, but when it came to their adult lives, Moncourt was always the subordinate. I'm sure De Villiers would have been quite happy for that to continue.

       ‘While I could believe someone might make a gift to a friend who’d helped him out, I don't believe that it would go as far as giving half his company away, especially a company as valuable as De Villiers’.’

       ‘So what did he trade in?’ Phil asked.

       ‘Virtually anything he could, but a substantial part of the business was slavery and sugar. Bristol was the port of choice for the slavery side of things while the more exotic cargoes were imported and exported in and out of London.‘

       ‘If he was wealthy, what sort of money are we talking?’

       ‘It's difficult to say, but put it this way – De Villiers-Moncourt still exists and, from what I can gather, the eighteenth century was when the bulk of the fortune was made. The company is quite diverse in its holdings. All assets including property … it's valued at a little under £500 million.’

       ‘You say a little under?’

       ‘About 7 mil, so £493 million if you're being picky.’

       ‘That's a lot of slaves!’

       ‘It's a lot of sugar and other stuff too.’

       ‘What we, in this room, need to focus on is this. Imagine that note still exists, what would it be worth today?’

       ‘It would be worth bugger all to me because my name's not on it.’ I said.

       ‘That's not strictly true.’

       ‘What? You're telling me my name
is
on it?’ I realised what a stupid question it was as soon as it came out of my mouth.

       Peach frowned. ‘No, you plonker. I'm saying the note could be of value to you.’

       ‘How do you work that one out then?’

       ‘Let’s suppose we were in possession of the note and were able to contact Steadman's heirs. What do you think it would be worth to them?’

       Neil answered. ‘Plenty, perhaps the whole £493 million?’

       ‘Right, so whoever had the note would have the power to make Steadman's descendants very rich indeed and probably be able to negotiate a nice little finder's fee into the bargain. Say ten per cent of the court award obtained.’

       ‘Does it still exist then?’ Phil asked.

       ‘I have to say I'm convinced it does.’

       Phil wasn’t convinced. ‘Nah, I don’t buy that. De Villiers would insist on having the note in return for the half-share of the company?’

       ‘He might have tried, but my guess is that Moncourt was calling the shots. Think about it. For however long Moncourt held that note he would always have power over De Villiers, and De Villiers would have to comply. He had no choice.’

       ‘Why did he blackmail for a half-share? Why not the whole lot?’

       ‘De Villiers was in effect the company. He ran it. Moncourt would not have the expertise or contacts in order to take over. There were contracts in De Villiers’ name that had to be honoured. Without De Villiers that would be impossible. Moncourt would have difficulty keeping the money coming in at the rate that De Villiers could. Moncourt was also reputed to be lazy.

       ‘From De Villiers’ viewpoint, it would serve no purpose to hand the whole company over and start up on his own again. De Villiers would be of a mind that if Moncourt had the note, he could always walk back into De Villiers’ life at any point and make the same demands.

       ‘Edward De Villiers couldn't risk having Moncourt killed. He would have expected Moncourt to have measures in place so that, in the event of his untimely or suspicious death, the note would be made public. Consequently it was – or should I say is – a very powerful piece of paper.’

       ‘Where is it then?’ Neil asked.

       ‘Now that's the big question. I have a hunch where it might be, but it’s only an educated guess, albeit a pretty good one.’

       Phil had doubts. ‘So, assuming we could get our hands on this note, how would you propose we persuade all of Steadman's heirs to give us ne'er-do-wells fifty million quid?’

       ‘When I said heirs, what I should have really said is “heir”. There is only one.’

       Suddenly this was very interesting. To get agreement from a room full of people would probably be impossible; to get one person to agree was very possible indeed.

       ‘What I propose is this – a signed contract between him and the four of us – that on receipt of the court award a ten per cent finder's fee is to be deposited equally into four accounts held in each of our names.

       ‘I could draw up the agreement. I'm sure Neil could use his sales skills and get Mr Steadman to sign. He has everything to gain and nothing to lose.’

       ‘Apart from £50 million,’ Phil added.

       ‘No. It has to be explained to him clearly that without us there is no fortune. I told you, I believe that the note still exists. Something I also believe is that De Villiers’ descendants aren't aware of it.’

       I was curious. ‘Why would you think that?’

       ‘Will, come on. One secret you wouldn't want to pass on to your kids on your death bed is ... Before I die, there's this IOU that my business partner has been blackmailing me with for all these years. Try and make it your life’s work to get it back, children. Oh, and by the way, the IOU belongs to a bloke I murdered!’

       ‘What about Moncourt’s heirs then?’

       ‘Moncourt has none. He never married.’

       ‘What about relatives?’

       ‘Yes he had a few. Very distant though. Maybe it was guilt about the whole murder and blackmail thing but he didn't leave them a penny. He left his half of the company in trust. His shares, the capital part of his fortune, can't be sold or touched in any way. Most of the share income that’s earned goes directly towards the upkeep of his country estate in Staffordshire – which incidentally is open to the public. The rest goes to different charities.’

       Phil spoke. ‘Great, so the gang of four are going to liberate the much-needed funds of some very worthwhile charities and in doing so deprive somebody of a life-saving operation or something similar.’

       Peach disagreed. ‘Don't go all moral on me Phil. First, there aren't any charities like that in this equation. Second, those that are have been enjoying money, and a lot of it, that isn't theirs for well over two hundred years. Not discounting that there are quite a few fat cats in the mix, paying themselves ridiculous amounts in salary under the guise that they're doing good, when in fact the majority of good they're doing is for themselves, and this has been going on almost since the day Moncourt died. Third, don't overlook that the other half of the fortune is still in the hands of the De Villiers family.

       ‘And finally, the most important thing we must not forget about this whole shooting match is that
none
of this money belongs to any of these people. The only rightful heir is Peter Steadman!’

       ‘Providing the note exists,’ I added.

       ‘Trust me Will. The note exists; I'd stake my life on it.’

       The whole debate had been getting very charged. It was surprising how quickly we’d all been energised with this story. Peach broke off from the tale for a moment and started to get some plates out.

       ‘Food's ready. Pour some more wine please Mr Simms.’ Phil dutifully obliged. The beef Wellington looked superb. Peachy was wasted in the archive business. He should’ve opened a restaurant. He could’ve made a lot of hungry people very happy indeed.

       We continued to discuss the complexities of the scenario.

       ‘Out of curiosity, how did you come to hear about all of this Peach?’ I asked.

       ‘When I worked in records at the Old Bailey, an elderly gent by the name of Arthur Etherington, who’d been there aeons, brought it to my attention. Arthur and I were clearing part of the repository to make way for new computers of all things. He gave me this and quite a number of other ancient cases to read. He always said if he was having difficulty sleeping he’d use them as his bedtime stories. I got hooked by this particular bedtime story for obvious reasons.